It was hard not to look bored in Spanish class. Or distracted. Or asleep for that matter. Not that it was Mr. Shue's fault. His mind just wandered. Not to mention he'd never taken Spanish before, and joined the class halfway. Also, he didn't know anyone. Well, he knew of that Puck guy. But he didn't know him, just from football. And he'd only been to one practice.

And now his mind drifted of to Football. As awesome as it was that he was on the team, he still hadn't made any friends at the school yet. And the football team had been his ticket to popular…dom? He was pretty sure that wasn't a word, but whatever. Still, even if he hadn't gained any popularity, at least he hadn't lost any either. He didn't want a repeat of 'All-Boys Hell School'.

The bell rang and his thoughts swerved from depressing reminiscence to scrambling to gather his books together. He made his way to the exit without a word, and no one said a word to him. Sighing, he threw open his locker and tossed his books in, ruffled his hair a bit and started for the locker room. The locker room always had this distinctive smell; it wasn't repugnant or anything, it was just… man. Like, you knew other dudes changed and showered here and shit. Just from the smell. It kinda got you riled up, all that testosterone floating around and all. Anyhow, he liked it. No big deal.

He was the first in there, and seeing as he'd gone straight from class there it wasn't surprising. He'd seen Puck stop and hit up Santana just outside of Spanish, and the rest of the team probably had a social life too. Not Sam. Well, not yet anyways. Either way, he started to change, stripping his shirt and pants off down to his blue boxer briefs and started to open his locker. From behind him he heard the banter of some guys entering, one shoving the other against the lockers laughing.

'…Her Mom's out tonight too, so looks like Puckzilla's getting' some Latino- whoa whoa, check that out, looks like someone on this team besides me is packin' some. Nice bulge there new kid.'

Sam's face quickly jerked up from the locker towards the voice. Puck was grinning, eyes drilling below his. Sam caught on quick. His gear swung immediately down to cover up, 'You just wish you were as big Puck.'

'Mano-a-mano dude.' Puck smirked, moving to open his locker a few down from Sam.

'What the fuck does that mean?' Sam responded, confused.

Puck tossed a mocking look over before his face disappeared behind his shirt as he removed it slowly. 'You're in the same class dude, or did all that bleach turn your brain blonde too?'

'Fuck you Puck.' Sam replied, eyes returning to his locker and doing his best to put his suit on and get out of there.

'You'd like that hey?' Puck responded, then started laughing as Sam tossed him a pissed off glare before slamming the locker shut.

'So anyways, then Santana says her mom…'

Sam decided it'd be best if he hit the showers last that day. He really didn't feel like seeing that fucker Puck anymore that day. Practice had sucked, and he had a feeling Puck would have a follow up to earlier that he'd rather not deal with. So after an extra two laps, Sam headed slowly for the lockers. It may not be the best way to get closer with the team, but he figured avoiding Puck would be best either way.

As he entered, he heard the last rumblings of some of the guys leaving, lockers slamming and some joke about Brittany and a sailor suit. Letting out a breath of relief, Sam began to strip for the shower, tossing his gear just outside the shower and grabbing a towel from the rack to wrap around his hips. He was exhausted from the practice; Coach had gone all at him when he started fumbling, and that was never good. Now his body felt like a sack of… what again? Sprouts? Some kind of vegetable right? Well, he felt like shit either way. So the steaming water came as an enormous relief as it tumbled down his muscled golden body.

At least his old school had been good for something. No way he'd of had the motivation to hit the gym as often as he did now. Not that it mattered really; it didn't get him anywhere anyways. Maybe some girls liked it, but they didn't do anything about. And it didn't make him any friends either. But he thought he looked good, so whatever. It was worth it. Kinda.

Anyways, the locker room was empty, and he was pretty sure every dude sung in the shower when no one was around. 'Cause your voice echoed and shit. Well he liked to anyways, and soon enough he was belting out a good old classic, 'Every Rose Has It's Thorn.' He was goin' all at it too, hands grippin' a (imaginary) mic, eyes closed, till the lights crashed to dark. He immediately shut up.

His eyes scanned the void, still not acclimated and only gleaning the slight reds of the locker and the rush of the steaming water above him. After a moment, he decided to start to feel around him, looking for his stuff so he could get out of there quick before they locked him in. But no dry white towel seemed to be hanging where he left it. Or thought he left it anyways- he couldn't see a damn thing.

But nothing was coming up as he felt his way around the stall. Nothing, and as he cautiously stepped out of the stall, he felt nothing along the bench he'd left his gear. What- the- fuck.

Someone was fucking with him. Someone was fucking with him, and he was not going to lose his shit here. Fuck no, he was going to find his locker, grab his clothes and then beat the shitty fucker up. He just needed to calm the fuck down.

His breath had picked up it's pace dramatically before he finally noticed, and only freaked him out more. He moved quickly, or as quickly as he could feeling every fucking wall and trying to remember where his locker was from the showers.

The damp his still soaking hair and dripping body began to set in as he felt around, shivering in the dark. It was, till he felt an arm snake around his midsection, warm and inviting. And out of fucking nowhere. Sam spasmed, and a moment of a scream echoed out of his mouth before a hand smothered it to silence, the other pulling him backwards into the unknown warmth. He froze, his body going rigid in shock. His mind was an absolute blank.

'Shhh man…' a voice from behind him called, warm but in warning.

Sam could feel the hard warmth of a taller body pressed against his from behind, powerful pecs and abs pressed against his back, the voice coming from just above his ear and to the left. It was hauntingly devoid of anything frightening. It was calm and soothing actually.

Sam's mind began to whirr once more.

'It's me dude.'


It took a moment for Sam to put two and two together. He got five when he opened his mouth, mumbling into the other mans hand, producing a distorted jumble in the darkness.

'Couldn't have you screamin' wolf on me man,' he heard from behind him. Sam felt the hand leave his mouth.


The hand immediately shot back atop his mouth once more, silencing anymore outbursts. 'Shut the fuck up man, no one's here but you can't go fuckin' screamin' like that.' When Sam stopped struggling, he felt the hand lift once more. He paused for a moment before deciding on the most logical response, aside from screaming for help- 'cause apparently that didn't work.

'The FUCK are you doing Puckerman!' he hissed, trying to jerk out of the other's hold, but to no avail.

'Can you calm the fuck down shit face?'

'Not if you don't get the fuck off me man- seriously!' Sam almost growled in return as Puck continued to tighten his grip the more he tried to break free. As he struggled, however, Puck's body behind him became more and more vivid in his senses, till Sam noticed the feeling of the other dude's cock resting against his ass. 'Dude-' Sam burst out as he tried to jerk his lower body away from the other. Puck quieted him once more with his hand before turning Sam around so he faced him, holding their two bodies together, their noses brushing.

'Sam, you done flippin' shit now?' Puck asked him point blank, eyes locked cold upon Sam's, his breath slowly mixing with Sam's frantic panting, ghosting over his face along with the steam from the showers. Sam couldn't say anything, even if his mouth wasn't covered. He just staring up at Puck, hands planted on the other's upper abdomen and pushing away with constant force but to no result. He didn't know what to do anymore, only that he couldn't give up, even if he already knew he couldn't muscle his way out. 'Listen, I just need to see...' Puck started, then paused as he felt Sam push harder and harder against him for every word he spoke. 'Oh come off it Sam, I'm not gonna fuckin' rape you or shit.' Puck stated, annoyed, before letting Sam have his way, separating the two by the distance of Sam's arms and his abs, his own hands falling to the side.

Sam finally snapped out of his stupor.

'Well if you're not, then what the fuck Puck!' Sam hissed. Puck held his eyes for a moment before slumping onto the bench. By now, Sam's eyes had gotten used to the dark, making out most of Puck. Including his dick, but he tried not to think of that at the moment.

'Hey man, I thought you liked dudes first. I just wanted to see, you know, if I do too.' Puck said flatly.

'You're serious?' Was all Sam could come up with.

'Well yeah, you know. You're hot, and I'm obviously hot. It just sounded good. Why not, right?'

Sam just stood there.

'I just wanna try it out dude, see if I like it.'

'I-it?' Sam stammered.

'Dude on dude, man. Duh.'

'You're gay?'

'Pucksaurus does what he wants and doesn't take no labels man.'

'So I'm supposed to be an experiment then?'

'I guess. But I haven't ever heard anyone complain about experimenting with the Puckerman before.'

Sam didn't say anything, he just stood over Puck, who was still on the bench.

'You know you got your dick in my face there man.'

Sam's hands flew down to cover up, his face burnt red in the dark. 'S-sorry,' he stammered. After a moments hesitation he decided to sit down beside Puck on the bench, hands planted between his legs to cover up. Puck only rested his elbows on his thighs, his legs spread and hands resting between his legs. Sam could tell from his first time in the locker rooms that Puck was a big guy down there, no doubt quite a bit larger than any of the other guys (not that Sam was really looking, you just... knew these things) but up close and personal now with an unabashed Puck he could really get a sense of exactly how big he was. And he was packin', Sam wasn't gonna lie.

'So how 'bout it big lips?' Puck continued after Sam sat down, nudging him in the side with a big grin on his face.

Sam didn't say a word, his eyes darting from Puck to the floor and back. He couldn't tell if Puck was serious or just trying to fuck with him, testing him or some shit like that.

In his peripheral he saw Puck turn his upper body towards him, looking at him on the side for a moment before leaning over, quick but sure. And then Puck's face was right up to his, grinning all over like he knew somethin' Sam didn't. And Sam didn't do anything when he saw Puck shut his eyes and place his lips on his- only for a moment. Only for a moment, and then nothing, just Puck grinning back at him like a dog.

When Sam didn't say anything, Puck decided to break the silence.

'I liked that.' Puck declared, and after another moment without response he continued, 'You?'

Sam shrugged, still not looking at Puck but out into the darkness instead. This wasn't good. Well it was, but it wasn't. Puck wouldn't get him popular. And he wasn't gay. Well, Puck said he wasn't gay, and Puck was popular. And he got girls all the time. So maybe he could be 'not gay' too.

'Alright, well I gotta go. Santana's got an appointment with the Puckerman tonight.' Puck said with a stupid grin, Sam looking over finally when Puck stood up. 'But I'll see you at Rachel's tomorrow, yeah?' Puck stated with a wink and punch to the shoulder. Sam watched as he bent over to grab his jeans and shirt, pulling his jeans up. Commando. He did his best not to make a mental note of Puck's ass and how it fit pressed up against his jeans. Muscular. Sam quickly decided the floor was more interesting. 'Sam?'

'Huh? Oh, yeah. I'll be there.'

Puck smirked. 'Bring a flask of vodka or something, hey? Rachel'll probably only have coolers and girl shit.'

Sam nodded, only kindasorta watching Puck pull a well fitting grey Tee over his head.

'Alright, see yah later dude. And don't forget what we were talking about earlier.' Puck said as he walked away, turning around the lockers and towards the exit, hand up waving a goodbye.

Sam watched the other leave, eyes locked where Puck was last.

And he sat there. In the dark, till he heard his phone ring from the pocket of his jeans.